


Home for Christmas

by startswithhope



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Travel, more tropes to come that I can't say now without spoiling the fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5457557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Swan Modern Holiday AU - A ghost from Killian's past resurfaces a week before Christmas, leading him and his best friend, Emma, on a journey they will never forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The silence that had descended is broken by the slide of the glass door behind him, his back stiffening and hand curling tighter around his phone as he tries to summon a friendlier demeanor. With her adorable beanie framing her blonde curls around her questioning smile, he's never been more thankful to see  _her_  than he is at this very moment.

"I brought your scarf and a beer, which one do you want first."

"Beer,  _definitely_  beer. Thanks, Swan, how did you know?"

He takes the beer from her outstretched hand, but pauses when she steps forward to wrap his scarf around his neck. With her this close, her warm breath kissing his cold cheek and her breasts brushing innocently against his arm, he knows he's outmatched and further conscious thought or actions are out of the question until she's moved back. Emma Swan, she's the unrequited love of his life and one of his closest friends, a kindred spirit as they've come to learn.

"Saw you come out here over twenty minutes ago with your phone. Considering the death grip you have on that thing, I'm guessing it wasn't a good call?"

The light scratch of her fingernails along his neck as she tucks his scarf into his collar has him drawing a sharp breath in, accompanied by a telltale warmth beginning to tingle beneath his skin. It's amazing how just a small touch from her can affect him so, making him  _almost_  forget the conversation that he'd just had to endure.

"Nothing to worry about, love, especially now that I have your company."

He goes for flirtatious, his default maneuver when he wants to steer conversations away from himself, something he knows she will see right through, but hopes for mercy nonetheless. Her eyes narrow slightly as her hands fall from his scarf, pondering him for a moment before she steps backward out of his space, depositing herself against the railing to stare at him with arms crossed and head cocked to the side.

"I know you're lying, but you can tell me when you're ready."

Her smile is honest, telling him she's here for him, like always, but won't push. They always come around eventually with one another. Looking at her now, he realizes he doesn't want to wait. If there's anyone in the world who will understand what he's going through, it's Emma Swan. Stepping forward, he moves to lean against the railing beside her and takes a deep breath, needing a moment before he has to put his rambling thoughts into words.

Cold fingers wrapping around his own and his forgotten beer brings his attention back to moment at hand and he turns to face her, smiling as she pulls the bottle from his grip to bring it to her mouth. She turns her body towards him as she finishes her stolen swig, eventually passing it back with an unmistakable twinkle in her eye. It's moments like this that he can't help but wonder if maybe his feelings aren't as unrequited as he fears. Filing that thought away for another time,  _like always_ , he steers his gaze down to the bottle back in his hand as he begins to explain all that has occurred in the last few days.

"That was my father."

Emma's hand finds his arm as a light gasp falls from her lips, the heat from her fingers seeping through his sweater sending needed warmth straight to his heart.

"What? How did…"

"How did the man who abandoned me over twenty five years ago find me? Trust me…that was my first question when I got his email on Monday."

"What did he say?"

Not enough,  _too much_ , there's no answer to that question that feels right. "He found an article online about Liam's accident, which eventually led him to me. I guess I should have paid better attention to Facebook's bloody confusing privacy settings…"

"Oh Killian, I can't even imagine."

Unable to resist seeking her comfort, he covers her hand on his arm with his and tucks her closer, thankful to not feel any resistance from her beneath his fingers.

"I know, Swan, it's all a bit overwhelming. I never thought…I expected, bloody hell, I thought that chapter of my life was closed."

"Do you want it to be?"

Her question is unexpected, but then again not, as it's the same one he's been asking himself for days now. Looking over at her, he allows himself to get lost for a moment in her understanding gaze, knowing that whatever the answer to that question is she'll support him either way.

"He called tonight to ask me to come to London for Christmas."

And there's the flinch. Her fingers flex against his arm and her lips curve downwards in a slight frown, her reaction adding another errant thought to that  _later_  pile. She's disappointed that he might not be here if he chooses to go, he can see it plain on her face.

"That's next week."

"Aye, I know, love."

He watches as she gives her head an almost imperceptible shake, as if she's trying to regroup her thoughts and he can't help his smile, one he is quick to hide when her eyes find his once again.

"Do you want to go?"

"I don't honestly know. I'm not sure if I can face him alone. It would be so much easier if Liam was still here…"

Defiant tears start to build behind his eyes as soon as his late brother's name falls from his lips, ten years gone and the loss of Liam has barely lessened. His older brother is the only real father he's ever known, so letting the man who officially holds that title back into his life feels a bit like betrayal.

"I could go with you."

Time seems to stop and he's sure she can hear the freight train that is his heart at her suggestion, having her by his side for this trip a gift he never would have  _dared_  wish for.

"Emma, I can't ask you to miss your Christmas here."

"You're not asking, I'm offering. Besides, it won't feel like Christmas without you here anyway."

Her eyes have fallen to their still joined hands and he swears he sees a blush creeping across her cheek that he really doesn't think is due to the cold. Before he utters something like a declaration of love that could ruin this already overwhelmingly perfect moment, he does the next best thing, pulling her in so he can wrap her in a fierce hug. His forgotten beer falls from his hand into the bush below the balcony, but he can't care about spilt alcohol when Emma's cheek is resting against his throat and her hands are clinging tight to the back of his sweater.

"Swan…thank you, you have no idea…."

She lets him hold her for a moment longer before shifting slightly in his arms so she can rest her head against his shoulder and look up at him.

"One problem… Tickets are going to cost a fortune."

The muscle in his jaw ripples as anger threatens to bubble back to the surface, causing his reply to be spoken with an edge he just can't summon the strength to hide.

"That won't be an issue. My father, no… _Brennan_ , has apparently amassed a small fortune since abandoning his sons. When I return his call, I'll tell him he needs to buy two tickets."

She lifts her head and leans back, her jade eyes piercing his with an intensity she reserves for moments of great importance,  _or at least their more impressive arguments_.

"Killian, you don't have to let him back in, you know?"

Nodding his head in agreement, he releases a deep breath through his nose, his hand along her back absentmindedly tightening and pulling her just a fraction closer.

"I do know, Swan,  _I do_. But, there's another reason to make the trip. I have a younger brother I think I'd like to meet."

"He had another son?"

"Aye, he's eighteen and is keen to meet me as well."

She regards him solemnly for another quick moment before bestowing him with a wide smile, her hands sliding from around his back to clasp his forearms in a friendly grip.

"Okay then….Christmas in London. It'll be an adventure."

"Aye, love, I hope you're right."

"I am. Now, let's get back inside. I'm freezing and they want to play Trivial Pursuit. It's the Pop Culture Edition, which I know you suck at, but you've got me on your team."

She gives his arms another firm squeeze and he thinks she's going to pull back, but in a move that seems to be a surprise even to her, she leans in quickly and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. Before he can even summon a thought, much less an action, she's slipped from his arms and back through the sliding door whence she came.

Standing in awe of all that has transpired, he looks through the glass to see her settling on the couch next to their friends with two new beers, one he knows is meant for him. His hand reaches into his back pocket for his phone and he dials Brennan's number, suddenly unexpectedly excited at the prospect of going home for Christmas.

###


	2. Arrivals

She’s been letting him work through his nerves for the last ten minutes, but with his knee nearly sending her ginger ale flying and his neighbor to the left sending glances that could kill; she knows the time has come to do something. Gulping down the last of her drink, she crushes the cup so she can stuff it in the seat pocket and raises her tray to give herself access to his offending appendage.

Looking over at his face she sees his eyes are closed tight, unfortunately not in sleep, instead in anxious torment as he does his best to deal with his overwhelming fear of flying. The second her palm makes contact with his knee, the bouncing comes to an abrupt stop and his weary eyes open to meet hers.

“Hey…”

“Sorry, love, I didn’t realize I was shaking the whole bloody plane.”

“It’s ok. Did you take your Dramamine?”

“Aye.  Just need another minute for it to kick in. Remind me why we’re up in this deathtrap again?”

“Because, as much as I know you prefer sea travel, we don’t have three days to get London. And, unfortunately, modern technology hasn’t figured out how to make boats fly yet. “

The tiny smile that breaks free from his tightly pursed lips is a welcome sight and she flexes her fingers still holding on to his knee, focusing on his slight relaxation instead of the tingles she feels from being able to touch him for so long. She really hopes he’ll fall into slumber soon, giving her the privacy she needs to try to deal with her own internal freak-out she’s been on the verge of since their cab dropped them off at the airport a few hours ago. Offering to go with him on this trip was something she did without thought, a gut reaction to want to be there for him, and if she’s being completely honest with herself, to not be without him on Christmas. When you love someone as much as she does Killian, being close to him is always preferable, despite the pain that comes with not knowing if he’ll ever feel the same way about her.

His hand covering hers on his knee to tangle their fingers together is just one more to add in a list of many moments she clings to in order to keep hope alive, tiny affectionate touches and glances that keep her wondering if maybe, _just maybe,_ she’s not alone in her feelings. When she looks up from their hands to see what expression is on his face, she’s met with closed eyes once again, sleep ( _and chemicals_ ) finally having won the war with his frayed nerves.  If things were different, she’d reach up and brush his unruly hair from his forehead, press a gentle kiss to his temple and whisper “sweet dreams” against the shell of his ear. But, she won’t. Instead, she’ll hold his hand, and do her best not to fall even more in love with him with each passing mile of their overnight flight.

//

“Swan, wake up, love.”

Flinching at the bright lights of the cabin that filter in as she cracks open her lids, she tries to lift her hands to her temples, needing to soothe the fatigue-induced headache that has burrowed deep into her brain. Resistance on her left makes her realize that Killian’s hand is still wrapped firmly around hers, the tightening of his fingers making it obvious he has no intention of letting go. Groggy-eyed, she seeks his gaze and finds him smiling over at her, his bright blue eyes settled on her with his head turned towards her on his seat. She doesn’t know what to make of his expression, but it’s making her stomach flip in ways that’s making her wonder if the plane has hit some unexpected turbulence.

“Good morning.”

“Is it? Are we landing?”

“Aye, we’re 10 minutes out.”

“Oh…did you just wake up?”

“A little while ago, that Dramamine really did the trick. Thank you.”

“Just looking out for you...”

“I know…”

She doesn’t realize she’s been moving closer to him until they’re almost nose to nose, their heads pressed against their respective headrests, the air around them suddenly charged as she sees his eyes flicker briefly downwards at her slightly parted lips. If things were different, she’d swear that he wants to kiss her. If things were different, she’d lean forward the rest of the way and…

“Ladies and Gentleman, we are beginning our final decent into Heathrow. Please secure all seat back trays, return your seats to their upright positions and prepare for landing.”

It’s depressingly hilarious how quickly they pull apart. Mumbled apologies spill from him as their now sweaty hands finally break apart, embarrassed shuffling from her as she tries to find her lost shoe from somewhere beneath his feet, all add up to a confusing moment of possibility lost in spectacular fashion. Pressing her hand against her chest, she refocuses her attention outside the window to the approaching city below, hoping she can summon the strength to help him get through the next few days without completely breaking her own heart in the process.

//

Customs takes longer than usual due to holiday travel, but at least they don’t have to wait for bags, thanks to Killian’s suggestion that they only pack what can fit in the matching rolling bags they carried on the plane. Yes, he bought them matching luggage ( _that he claimed were on sale_ ). The blush that accompanied the gift, however, was communicating a different story, one she chose to write in her head as a grand romantic gesture straight out of one of those cheesy holiday rom-coms she finds herself watching late at night, _alone in her bed_. Yeah, she’s got it bad.

She’s so lost in her own head that she doesn’t notice she’s walking alone. It’s only when she turns to smile at him does she realize Killian is no longer by her side, but a few steps back seemingly frozen in place in the bustling walkway. His face is contorted in such a way that she fears he’s about to start crying and suddenly she’s reminded of why she’s really here. Rushing back to his side, she uses his elbow to lead him to a nearby bench where he lands with a sigh, leaving her to gather their bags off to the side before she see to what has happened. When she settles beside him he’s slouched over with his head in his hands, his back rising and falling with his rapid breathing, prompting her to run her palm down his spine in an effort to help calm the storm that has taken hold of him seemingly out of nowhere.

“Killian…just breathe…”

The shuddering breath he draws in sends a slice of pain through her heart, the emotions he’s feeling so familiar, so raw and like nothing she can really help prepare him to handle. What comes next will have to be a leap of faith, and she’s so thankful to be here, seeing in his eyes as he looks up at her that there is no way he could have done this alone.

“I don’t know how to do this, Emma.”

“I know, but you _can_ do it, trust me. You’re stronger than you realize.”

“It’s just…God, please don’t judge me too harshly when you hear this…”

He looks away from her to the streams of people passing in front of them, looking somewhat lost in his own thoughts as he rubs his fingers along his now two day old scruff.

“I’ve fantasized about the day I would come face to face with my father, practiced conversations  of all I want to say, let out all of the of anger and regret, imagined his begging for forgiveness. In all of those scenarios, I dreamed I’d be older, settled, with a family of my own, so I could show him that he didn’t break me. That despite him, I managed to find someone who loved me enough to want to stay. I never thought it would be this soon, _if at all_ , when I’m still so alone… Sorry, I know you’re here, Emma, and I love you for that, but…”

Reaching up, she ceases his rambling with a brush of her fingers against his cheek, her thumb wiping at the tears that he allowed escape during his open-hearted confession. Gently moving to cup his jaw, she lifts his head until he’s forced to look up at her with his now red-rimmed eyes, sadness and embarrassment tinging his cheeks as he struggles to keep her gaze.

“You are _not_ alone and you have people who love you. Never doubt that… _ever_. You don’t have anything to prove to him, Killian.”

He tries to smile, but it’s not enough, so she moves in for a hug, her hand on his cheek moving to his hair as he buries his face in her neck. The armrest between them is digging painfully into her stomach, but she doesn’t care, not when his arms tighten around her and she hears him whisper her name against her ear. She’s always known he was broken like her, but never felt the severity of it until now. God, she hopes this trip wasn’t a huge mistake.

The buzzing of his phone between them in his jacket startles them both, forcing him to reluctantly pull back and untangle his arms, his eyes not meeting hers before pulling out the phone look at the text flashing on the screen.

“He’s waiting at Arrivals.”

Summoning more strength than she feels, she straightens her back and reaches up to tug on his lapels, waiting for him to shift his attention from his phone back to her. When he finally does, she bestows him with a genuine smile and releases his jacket to move to her feet, reaching her hand down towards him in invitation.

“Let’s do this.”

His eyes move from hers to her hand and back again, and she sees the man she loves begin to flicker back to life, finally curving his lips into a smile of his own as he takes her hand firmly in his. Pulling him to his feet, she keeps hold of his fingers as he takes his bag from her with his free hand and they fall back into step together, ready to make their way down the last hallway that will lead them to Brennan.

She’s not sure of the exact moment it happens. The sight of the man in front of them, looking so much like Killian she feels her heart tumble to a stop, Killian’s fingers clasping hers so tight she’s afraid of the bruises he might be leaving behind, the hesitancy lingering from both men the closer they come to being face to face, all of it builds to a decision that in retrospect, she still isn’t sure she consciously made.

Brennan speaks first, his chocolate brown eyes looking warmly at Killian, chilling slightly when met by the icy blue of his son’s less than friendly gaze.

“Killian, son, I’m so glad you’re here.”

Killian clears his throat, his voice masked in formality when he finally breaks the uncomfortable silence to speak.

“Brennan, this is…”

Interrupting him, Emma reaches her hand towards Brennan with a smile that belies the nervous swarm of butterflies wreaking havoc deep in her belly at what she’s about to do.

“…Emma, his girlfriend, nice to meet you, Brennan.”

 


	3. a flicker of hope

He didn’t know it was possible to feel so many varied emotions all at once until this very moment. Shock, guilt, awe, love, and a tiny flicker of hope, flickering to life amidst it all at the sound of that one word spilling unexpectedly from her lips. _Girlfriend_. Emma Swan had just introduced herself as his bloody girlfriend.

Her hand curling around his elbow tugs him out of his stupor, her slightly widened eyes and hopeful smile witling the varied emotions down to one, _awe_. He is simply in awe of her. With a slight shake of his head, he returns her smile and watches her shoulders relax in obvious relief at his reaction to her deceit.

“You two must be exhausted. Let’s get out of here and to the car, shall we?”

Flinching slightly at the sound of Brennan’s voice, he schools his features into what he hopes is something resembling cordial before regarding the man in front of him. This is infinitely harder than he imagined and he has never been more thankful to feel the weight of Emma’s hand and for the knowledge that she will be there when he inevitably falls apart.

“Aye, lead the way.”

Brennan’s hesitant smile brightens as he shifts his attention to Emma and Killian watches as he bows slightly before offering to take her bag. Killian can see now where his flirting gene has originated. The tiny smile he allows to crack his façade helps to break a bit of the tension that has been sitting like a dead weight on his shoulders. One step at a time, that’s how he’s going to get through this.

With Emma’s bag in tow, Brennan begins to lead them towards the parking lot, leaving just enough distance for Killian to whisper in Emma’s ear.

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are, Swan?”

“God, I’m so relieved that you’re not mad.”

“Not possible, love.”

“Good. Do you think we can pull this off?”

Brennan chooses that moment to look back at them and Killian realizes what the man must see, the two of them tucked close together, Emma’s arm securely wrapped around his elbow with her lips practically touching his ear.

“Aye, I think we’re already off to a brilliant start.”

//

They’re only a few miles into their journey to Brennan’s home when Emma’s eyes begin to droop. Using his newfound boyfriend status to both of their advantage, he pulls her in with his arm around her shoulder, offering his own for a place to rest her head. Her initial resistance fades quickly as her sleepy brain catches on and she’s soon tucked into his side, her soft breaths caressing his neck a both welcome and distracting sensation.

“I take it Emma didn’t get much sleep on the plane?”

Killian catches Brennan’s eye from the rearview mirror, but quickly looks away, redirecting his focus to the busy London streets passing by outside his window.

“I’m not the best flyer, unfortunately. She stayed awake with me until my meds knocked me out.”

“I’m not fond of air travel either. I guess that’s one thing we have in common.”

He has to grip the armrest to help quell the anger from building at that statement. Finding he has anything in common with this man is not something he wishes to hear, not now, not yet, _perhaps never_.

“I guess…”

A welcome silence descends after that and he shifts his attention back to the woman in his arms and how natural it feels for her to be exactly where she is, how easy they have managed to settle into this charade. He knows that for his part it’s because there is no real faking involved, only regret that when this trip is over he’ll be faced with having to let go and go back to how things were before. That thought has him pulling her in a fraction tighter, a move she reciprocates in her sleep as her nose comes to rest fully against his neck. Leaning his head on the top of hers, he lets his eyes fall to a close, content for a moment to just live in this fantasy bubble he knows could break with one wrong move.

Unsure of how much time has passed when he opens his eyes again, he wakes to Brennan’s deep voice from where he’s turned to face them from the front seat, a somewhat wistful smile adorning his lips.

“We’re here. I’ll get the bags if you want to wake up Sleeping Beauty, there. Charlie’s probably home from university by now and will be eager to meet you both.”

Nervously excited at the prospect of finally meeting his brother, Killian nods and attempts to clear the sleep from his brain as he takes in Emma, still completely passed out and clinging to him as if he’s her favorite teddy bear ( _the ratty one that’s missing an eye that she hides beneath her pillow_ ). Shifting slightly, he leans far enough back so that he can press a light kiss to her forehead and smiles when he sees her nose begin to twitch, a telltale sign that she’s on the verge of waking up.

“Emma, love…time to join the world of the living.”

Her eyelids slowly flutter open at the same time as she begins to stretch, the inward curving of her spine managing to press her even closer to his side and mangle his brain to absolute mush. _Gods, she has no idea the effect she has on him_. When she finally full wakes there is a sudden realization from them both just how tangled up they are. With her hand still gripping his waist and her head mere inches from his, there seems to be an ever-tightening thread keeping either of them from pulling back. His heart begins to speed up when she leans even closer and is off to the races at the sight of the tip of her tongue sliding out to wet her lips. When those lips are suddenly pressing tentatively against his, he realizes he must still be asleep, as there is no way on earth that that this is actually happening. Taking full advantage of his dream, he leans in to the kiss, his palm finding her cheek as he loses himself in the wondrous feel of her mouth moving sweetly against his. Her hand comes up to mirror his, holding him in place as she slowly leans back, releasing his lips entirely too soon with what he swears feels like reluctance.  

He opens his eyes to find hers searching his, a deep blush flushing her cheeks and nose and the bottom lip he was so recently cherishing caught delicately between her teeth. She releases her lip on a deep breath before clearing her throat, her voice soft and somewhat trembling when she finally speaks.

“I thought we should probably get our first one of those out of the way without prying eyes. It wouldn’t be good if we looked like a couple who’s never kissed before.”

He’s too shell shocked to form any sort of response, but manages a semblance of a smile as she all too quickly disentangles herself and scrambles from the car. Running his hands over his face, he tries to find the strength to move further, but fails miserably. She may be able to pretend that what just occurred was merely a bit of necessary practice, but he cannot. He’ll be damned if that kiss wasn’t real, not just for him, but for her, too.

That flicker of hope he felt earlier, it’s threatening to turn into a roaring fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the enthusiastic response to this trope-filled Holiday story! Apologies for the shorter chapter, but I wanted to get things moving along with these two oblivious lovebirds before Christmas. My new plan is to have this fic concluded before the New Year! Wishing everyone who celebrates a very Merry Christmas! Stay tuned for an update hopefully this weekend. :)


	4. the truth can work just as well as a lie...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - There is just too much of this story that I want to tell to end it yet. I plan on one more chapter after this, and maybe an epilogue for NYE if I can manage it. Thank you so much for your reviews and response to this. It has made my holiday even merrier!

Thankful for the cold air brushing her flaming cheeks, she moves to follow Brennan into his house, pointedly leaving Killian to follow instead of waiting for him to exit the car. She needs a moment, a moment without his questioning eyes and tender touches and far away from those lips she now knows she will never forget the taste of.

What the hell is she doing? Why did she have to go and kiss him? Her heart, which until that moment was only feeling slightly bruised, now feels cracked open, exposed, her true feelings mingling out in the open before she's had a moment to prepare.

Hating herself the moment she does it, she flinches at the sudden touch of Killian's hand on her back as he catches up to her in the driveway. His hand quickly returns to his side, eyes avoiding hers as she turns to send an apologetic look over her shoulder, and she can't help but think she's already managing to ruin everything. Knowing she can't pull back from him now, not when this trip has just started, she reaches over to grab his hand. Thoughts of that same hand lightly cupping her cheek as he responded to her kiss mere moments ago has her blood rushing to her cheeks again, as does the shy smile replacing his hurt frown as he finally meets her eyes and his hand curls tenderly around hers.

As she moves to lead them into the house after Brennan she feels Killian's fingers tighten, a silent seeking of shared strength to help him cross the threshold into a life that he was never given the chance to live. _This_ is what she is here for. Wiping her love-addled brain of fanciful notions brought on by that kiss, she pulls herself together and readies herself to be the friend, well, the _girlfriend_ Killian needs.

"Charlie, we're home!"

Brennan sets their rolling bags at the bottom of the wooden stairs in the small foyer before turning back to face Emma and Killian, who have yet to move farther than just inside the door.

"Come in, come in…allow me to take your coats. Charlie's around here somewhere."

Killian's hand releases hers and is immediately at her shoulder, helping her to pull her arms free of her heavy coat before shrugging out of his too thin leather jacket ( _she begged him to pack something warmer_ ). The curt nod of thanks he sends his father as he hands over the coats signals just how many walls he still has up, protection she understands, but still hopes to see lessen over the next few days. Seizing the small moment they have alone as Brennan deals with their things, she turns to face Killian who seems to be lost in thought, his eyes trained on the hallway where his father has just disappeared.

Her hands coming to rest lightly on his waist draws Killian's gaze towards her and they share a silent conversation, the swirling emotions behind his eyes meeting what she hopes is the calm in hers. She can feel the warmth of his fingers as they move to grip her arms, the circling of his thumbs along the insides of her elbows seeming to soothe him as much as her as he takes a few deep breaths in and releases the air slowly through his nose. She's about to speak when she sees his eyes dart just over her head, the darkened blue visibly brightening at what he sees.

"Killian?"

Releasing his waist, she turns at the sound of feet moving quickly down the stairs, knowing immediately who has caught Killian's undivided attention. Charlie is taller than she imagined, long limbed and lanky, with a mop of unruly brown hair and eyes a perfect match to the man standing stock still behind her. His quick pace slows as he takes the final few steps, a visible shyness falling over his previous excitement the closer the brothers come face to face. But then Killian's moving behind her, meeting Charlie at the bottom of the stairs with a hand outstretched and a wide, awestruck smile. She forces herself to look away when the handshake turns into a hug, her overflowing heart finding a gentle ache when her eyes fall on Brennan, watching his sons embrace from the solitude of the hallway. Even from this distance, she can see the tears in his eyes, and she can't help but feel sorry for him, for decisions made she can see he wishes he could take back, consequences faced by father and sons alike.

Brennan's hand comes up to press at his eyes and she looks back to Killian, seeing him deep in conversation with Charlie as if they are the only two people in the world. She hears her name and Charlie looks over to her with wide eyes and a big smile, revealing deep dimples that must be a Jones family trait.

"Bloody hell, Killian, whatever did you do to deserve such a stunning creature."

Ah, the flirting gene is _definitely_ strong in this family.

"I have no idea, mate."

"You know I can hear you, right?"

Her sarcastic smile is met with dual laughs as Killian leads Charlie to her side, and before she knows it she's wrapped up in a strong hug that Killian has to pull apart in mock protest. Brennan takes control after that, sending Charlie and Killian upstairs with the bags and ushering Emma into the kitchen with promises of coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches. Her stomach growls as she settles on one of the stools of the counter, the mere mention of food reminding her that she slept through breakfast on the plane and hasn't eaten for over eight hours.

Brennan moves with ease about the kitchen, pulling down two mugs from the cabinet after setting water to boil in the kettle on the stove. He smiles over at her as he measures coffee grounds into a French press, waiting for her nod of approval before dropping one more heaping tablespoon to the pile.

"So, Emma, how is it that Killian failed to mention that you and he were dating when he spoke of you coming along on this trip?"

Oh _shit_. They really should have found time to come up with a story. With Brennan's brown eyes boring into hers she digs deep into her bag of tricks, thankful that lying is a skill she's mastered over the years chasing skips as a bail bondsperson.

"Oh, did he? I don't know? We've been together so long with the same group of friends that he probably just didn't think of it. We're just Killian and Emma back home, no real need for labels."

Brennan's eyebrow rises slightly as he smiles at her answer, the kettle going off diverting his attention and giving her a needed moment to reel in private at how much her lie sounded an awful lot like the truth.

"Emma, I…"

His voice breaks and Brennan turns to face her, the kettle seemingly forgotten in his hand as he stares down at her with an obvious struggle to maintain his composure.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am to see how much you obviously love my son. I was afraid… _no_ …that doesn't matter now. Just, thank you, Emma."

Tears spring to life behind her eyes and she manages a slight nod, her trembling bottom lip sliding between her teeth as his words sit heavy on her heart, hating the deceit with which her true feelings have been presented. The least she can do is be honest with him in this moment.

"Killian is the most important person in my life. I don't think he even realizes how much he means to me…"

Having finished pouring the hot water into the press, Brennan looks up at her with a slight shake of his head.

"He'd be a blind man if he didn't see it, love."

_Maybe she needs to get him some glasses…_

Brennan pauses and leans his ear up towards the ceiling, prompting Emma to do the same, the sounds of Killian and Charlie talking drifting through the floorboards obviously what Brennan was hoping to hear.

"Emma, before Killian comes back down… I want you to know, I have no expectations. If this is the one and only time I see him, I will completely understand. What I did, it's unforgiveable, and Killian owes me nothing. His agreeing to come here was more than I ever expected and far more than I deserve."

"I don't dare speak for him, but I will say this. Killian is guarded and proud, but beneath that, capable of great love and I firmly believe, forgiveness. You two will need to find time to talk, privately. I can't be in the middle of anything."

"Of course. Tomorrow, however, may be better for a heart to heart, after you've both had some sleep."

Emma nods in agreement and Brennan crosses to the refrigerator, filling his arms with cheese, butter and a carton of half and half.

"Speaking of sleeping arrangements, Charlie was planning to sleep on the couch, but I imagine that won't be necessary anymore?"

Oh God, she hadn't thought about that. There's no way to come up for an excuse as to why she and Killian couldn't share a bed, especially considering Brennan had witnessed her sleeping all over her son in the back seat of his car.

"Oh, no, Charlie can have his bed back."

"What's this about my bed?"

Charlie's voice from the hallway almost knocks her off her stool as she jumps in surprise, but is steadied by Killian's strong arm snaking around her as the two younger Jones men join them in the kitchen. The little timer on the counter chooses that moment to go off, causing her to jump, _again_. She really needs to calm down. Killian's arm tightens and she leans into his side, letting his sturdy warmth relax her as Brennan turns off the timer and pushes down the press to finish making her much needed coffee.

"We were just discussing the fact that with Emma and Killian's relationship being as it is, there's no need for you to give up your room. They can share the bed in the guest room."

Killian's fingers flex traitorously against her waist and she doesn't dare meet his eyes, knowing she will see the same shock she felt moments ago when the same realization was presented to her. Instead, she just reaches for the coffee that Brennan has placed in front of her, busying herself with adding cream and extra sugar. Killian's free hand reaches past her to grip the black coffee in the other mug and she watches as he lifts it to his lips, their eyes finally meeting with boiling intensity over the ceramic rim. It's definitely not shock that she reads in his expression. No, it's something else altogether different, something she's hesitant to name. If things were different, she'd swear it's…anticipation.

"You guys hungry?"

_Oh, you have no idea._

/

Charlie's outgoing personality is welcome, keeping them all entertained as they eat their grilled cheese sandwiches around the long kitchen counter. Killan, for his part, remains engaged, at least with his brother and on the rare occasion, with Brennan. She's immensely proud of him for how hard he is trying. She remains quiet, content to listen as Charlie talks of his rugby team, his thoughts of studying architecture next semester at school, and his plans to get together with his friends tomorrow for Boxing Day shopping at GAME, which is apparently the go-to place to buy video games in London. He really does seem to be a well-adjusted, happy eighteen year-old. The realization of that fills her with a sense of melancholy. This could have been Killian's life, but it wasn't.

"Everything alright, love?"

Killian's speaks softly against her ear, quiet enough that Charlie and Brennan most likely can't hear over the noise of the water running in the sink as they stand side-by-side rinsing plates.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. Damn jet lag…"

"Aye, I'm feeling it, too. We should try to push through as long as we can, though, or we'll be out of sorts for the entire trip."

Turning to face him, she reaches out to gently squeeze his forearm.

"Hey, are _you_ doing okay?"

His face visibly softens at her query, and he wraps his hand over hers on his arm. Their fingers tangle together of their own accord, or so she pretends, as he leans in a bit closer until their foreheads are almost touching.

"Going far better than I imagined so far…"

That pull that she had felt back in the car is back once again, causing her to fidget slightly in her seat as she looks determinately at his eyes ( _and_ _not his lips_ ).

"Good."

His nose lightly grazes hers and she knows what comes next, but with Brennan and Charlie's back to them she doesn't understand why. He's obviously intent on kissing her, the warmth of his breath caressing her lips tells her as much. Perhaps it is just his fragile emotions, fatigue and the shaky boundaries of their situation all mixing together in a search for comfort in her familiarity? Hating herself for letting that be enough of an excuse, she lifts her chin, giving him the signal he needs to close the distance and press his lips against hers. His kiss is soft, radiating warmth outward with the gentle push and pull, his fingers tightening over hers as her lips part slightly in invitation for more.

"Oi, get a room…"

"Charlie!"

She flinches and moves to pull back at Charlie's feigned annoyance, but Killian surges forward, pressing his lips harder to hers before releasing her with a loud smack. His eyes are full of mischief and humor, completely at odds with the tumbling sea that is her emotional state. Was that all for show after all? Was he just waiting for one of them to turn around? She doesn't think so, but she can't help the doubt from creeping in. God, whose idea was it to pretend to be dating, anyway?

Oh yeah… _it was hers_.

/

The remainder of the afternoon is spent watching Christmas movies on Brennan's entirely too comfortable couch. She's fallen asleep more than once against Killian's chest, only to have him lightly shake her awake, each time earning him a less than playful elbow to the ribs. Her emotions are in turmoil, she's exhausted and she really hates this version of "A Christmas Carol". ( _It just isn't the same without The Muppets._ ) Sitting up and giving herself some much needed space from Killian, she looks over at Brennan and Charlie, noting the younger tapping away on his phone and the older completely engrossed in the movie on the large flat screen. His brow is deeply furrowed and his shoulders are tense, his demeanor signaling perhaps a less than enjoyable reaction to this portion of the story, with Scrooge having to face the ghosts of his past and the reactions of those he loved to the selfish mistakes he had made. Looking over to Killian she sees that he is watching Brennan, too. His face is impassive; whatever emotions he is feeling hidden, even from her.

Charlie's boredom thankfully breaks the tense spell that has fallen around them as he exclaims that this movie is too depressing, receiving an enthusiastic agreement from Emma at his suggestion that they watch "Elf" instead. Brennan, still slightly despondent, doesn't offer an opinion, merely mumbles that he'll be in the kitchen warming some soup for an early supper. Killian's head turns to watch his father move about the stove, and Emma notices as his expression changes from whatever was going on before to an obvious sadness. Pushing past her annoyances from before, she redirects her focus to the problem at hand, helping Killian.

Leaning back into his side, she taps her fingers lightly against his chest to draw his attention over to her and away from Brennan.

"Hey, if you want to talk to him, I can watch the movie with Charlie."

His eyes close slowly briefly and he shakes his head, whispering softly "not tonight" as he opens his eyes again to meet her gaze. Nodding in understanding, she spreads her palm flat against his chest for a moment, holding firm over his heart until the rapid beat beneath her palm slows to a normal rhythm.

/

The wonders of Will Ferrell, warm soup and spiked egg nog manage to get them through the rest of the night without further incident, the lingering effects of the alcohol seeping what little was left of her waning energy. Before she knows it, Brennan's lifting her tilting cup from her hands and waking Killian, who she didn't realize had fallen asleep beside her.

"You two should head upstairs to bed. It's what…2 am your time? You've lasted far longer than I would have."

Too tired to respond with more than a smile, Emma lets herself be lifted to her feet by Brennan's strong hands, but sways a bit on her feet until Killian's arm moves to steady her by his side. His eyes are sleepy as he looks down at her before he meets Brennan's eyes to say goodnight.

"Happy Christmas, son."

She feels the stiffening of Killian's back at that, but he doesn't look away from Brennan as he responds.

"Happy Christmas."

Charlie appears suddenly and places a sloppy, rum induced kiss to Emma's cheek and a brotherly pat to Killian's shoulder, mumbling his own "Happy Christmas" to add to the mix. Thanks to his younger brother's antics, Killian ends the evening with his new family in laughter as he leads Emma up the stairs to their room.

There's a bit of awkward shuffling as they move about the room at first, trading trips to the bathroom to change into pajamas and brush their teeth. During her time alone, Emma takes time to splash water on her face and freshen her deodorant, and does her best to calm her nerves at the prospect of sharing a bed with Killian Jones.

They've come close to this before, sleeping bags placed next to one another on camping trips, unintentional cozy naps on couches ( _and on planes and in the back of cars_ ), but intentional joint sleeping arrangements is something entirely new. With the confusing, emotionally charged kisses they've shared today, the stakes are feeling high and leaving her unable to get a grasp of her situation. With no other choice than to just forge ahead, she gives herself one last look in the mirror and goes back to join him in their room.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for her, looking just as unsure as she feels.

"I can sleep on the floor if…"

There's something about his hesitancy that breaks through hers, giving her the in to take control of the situation, something she's prone to do in their _normal_ relationship.

"Nonsense, get in bed, Jones."

The smile he cracks is comically wide as he stands and pulls back the covers, giving her a distracting view of his firm backside barely hidden behind his thin pajama pants as he crawls into the far side of the bed. He turns to face her on his pillow as he holds the covers up for her to join him, that same wicked smile now being joined by a salaciously raised eyebrow.

She laughs, and silently hopes he doesn't see the blush creeping up her neck as she quickly flips the switch to turn off the light. It's dark, but she finds her way over to the bed, feeling around with her hands until her eyes acclimate and she can see him still holding the covers up in invitation. Sliding in beside him, she shivers as his hand comes down to tuck the blankets over her, finally settling to rest lightly along her hip. The light touch of his thumb, somehow having managed to find the tiny sliver of skin bared between her thin t-shirt and her flannel pajama pants, is more than enough to warm her to the core and all she can think about is reaching out to touch him as well. Her hand aches to seek the open v of his Henley, feel his coarse chest hair between her fingertips and wrap her fingers around the necklace she knows is hanging there. But she doesn't, at least not consciously anyway.

The last thing she remembers before sleep claims her is Killian's hoarsely spoken "Happy Christmas, Emma" and the feather light brush of his lips against her forehead. When she wakes hours later, night still blanketed around them, she's exactly where she hoped she would be. Killian has her wrapped up in his arms, legs impossibly entangled, her head tucked securely against his chest, with her fingers splayed beneath the collar of his shirt right over his heart.

Not wanting to wake him in fear of him loosening his hold, she presses a light kiss of her own to his collarbone where her lips are already pressed against, whispering "Happy Christmas, Killian" before allowing herself to drift back to sleep. What she doesn't know is that Killian is wide awake, struggling to keep his heart from beating right out of his chest.


	5. Happy Christmas

Before he even opens his eyes, he knows she's gone. It's probably for the best, considering he isn't entirely sure of what he would have done if he woke to find her still cuddled up beside him outside of kissing her senseless. Perhaps that's exactly what he should have done last night? Two long overdue discussions are on his agenda today, first with Brennan and second, and infinitely more terrifying, with Emma.

Talking is suddenly the farthest thing from his mind, however, when a shuffling noise has his still groggy eyes focusing across the room. The swoop in his stomach at the sight of her, wrapped only in a too short towel, is so extreme he has to grip the mattress to steady himself from falling off the bed. Her hair is dripping wet and sprinkling the hardwood floor with droplets of water as she stealthily attempts to shimmy into a pair of green panties beneath the towel. He knows he should alert her to his perusal, but he can't seem to find his voice, probably due to the knot that was once his tongue. She bends to pull a matching bra from her suitcase, giving him an even lovelier view of the panties and the tight backside they are barely attempting to cover.

A few things happen all at once after that. His silence breaks on an unbidden groan, causing her to whip around, _too quickly_ , which loosens the knot on her towel and leaves her standing with her arms covering her bare breasts, her towel at her feet, and a blush providing the festive red to go with the green of her panties. _Merry Christmas, one and all._

"Killian!"

Unable to extract himself from the bed without revealing just how aroused her little floor show has left him, he instead sits up and settles back with his arms crossed behind his head against the headboard.

"Don't stop on my account, love."

His ridiculously over the top wiggle of his eyebrows and the press of his tongue against the inside of his cheek manages to crack the tension and her look of shock turns to one of humor as an embarrassed laugh escapes her lips. Turning her back to him, she bends down again and rescues her towel, making quick work of retying it over her breasts before swiveling back on her heels to face him.

"You could have mentioned that you were awake, you know."

"Now, what would be the fun in that? Very festive drawers you've got there, Swan."

Her jaw drops slightly, but never one to back down, she quickly crosses one foot in front of the other and bends her knees, flaring the bottom of the towel out with her fingertips in an adorable curtsy.

"Merry Christmas."

God he loves this woman. And he's even more determined to tell her so... _today_. Noting that it's finally safe to remove the covers from his lap, he shuffles from the bed and crosses to stand in front of her, taking one of her hands in his own. Her skin is still slightly damp beneath his lips as he presses a light kiss to her knuckles and her eyes a deeper green than he's ever seen them as he meets her gaze over their joined hands.

"Merry Christmas, Emma."

Cataloging her obviously flustered reaction into his "she just might feel the same" file, he leaves her standing there facing the bed as he moves to his own suitcase to pull out a change of clothes. When he stands to look back at her, she's just standing there, shifting her weight nervously as her hair makes a new puddle on the floor.

"Do you have everything you need out of the bathroom? I'm going to hop in the shower as well."

It takes her a second to answer and he does his best to stop his lips from curving upwards in a triumphant smile.

"What? Oh…yeah, I'm good."

With a slight nod, he exits the bedroom and shuts the door behind him; not looking forward to the cold shower he knows is ahead if he's going to maintain his composure for the rest of the morning.

/

The smell of coffee and sausage and the lovely sound of Emma's laughter greets him as he makes his way down the stairs. His laugh joins the cacophony at the sight of his brother stealing something off her plate on the counter and her resulting smack to his wrist, followed by Charlie's half-hearted grumble as the stolen sausage finds its way back where it belongs.

"You're gonna have to be quicker than that, mate, if you want to get something over on Emma. Trust me, I know."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Grab me another sausage, will you, brother?"

_Brother_. It's been a long time since he's been referred to as such. Brennan's eyes meet his across the kitchen and having decided today is a day to face things, Killian chooses not to look away. He can see that Brennan is struggling as much as he is at the word and that knowledge manages to loosen one of the knots tied around Killian's heart. Giving him a small smile, he steps into the kitchen towards his father and accepts the mug of coffee Brennan is now reaching towards him with a smile of his own.

"You take it black, am I right?"

"Aye, thanks."

Standing casually next to his father on Christmas morning, both nursing black coffee and looking over at people they love, Killian finds himself at a complete loss for words. Thankfully, his brother has more than enough for them all.

"Oi, did you hear me? Sausage!"

"I heard you, _little brother_. Mind if I have breakfast before you have, let me guess, a third helping?"

Charlie stands at that and carries his plate to the sink, pausing for a moment in front of Killian so he can give a dramatic flex of his barely-there bicep.

"Growing boy here, I need my protein.

"I think you'd do better with a firm kick in the arse."

Charlie scoffs and makes a move to playfully punch Killian in the stomach, but quickly turns and runs from the kitchen hollering "you'd have to catch me first, old man" before bounding up the stairs.

Killian takes the dish towel Brennan has wordlessly passed over and rolls his eyes at his father's inability to conceal his amusement as he quickly wipes the coffee that has spilled to the floor. So _this_ is what it's like to have a younger brother. No wonder Liam boxed his ears so bloody often.

"Come eat breakfast while it's still warm, or at least before I eat the rest of this sausage."

Standing and tossing the towel in the sink, Killian moves to join Emma at the counter, making sure to make a show as he places the last three links on his plate, earning him an adorable nose wiggle in protest. Finally having found her clothes, Emma looks more delicious than the food on his plate, her creamy white sweater perfectly accentuating the rosy tinge to her cheeks and her golden hair which is drying in loose curls down her back.

"Did you two sleep well?"

Tearing his gaze away from Emma, he moves to scoop some beans onto his toast, before nodding to Brennan over his shoulder.

"Aye, one benefit of jet lag, I suppose."

Emma's eyes meet his over her coffee mug as he sits down beside her and the expression he sees there sends his blood on a mad rush to his groin. Flashing visions of the kiss she placed to his chest late last night and of her wrapped in his arms as she slept, is exactly the reason his skin is still slightly chilled from his shower.

They _really_ need to talk.

Pressing his thigh against hers behind the counter, Killian directs his attention to his breakfast; thankful that she's doesn't pull away as she sips her coffee beside him. Brennan excuses himself for a moment to go speak with Charlie, leaving the two of them alone.

"Hey, I was thinking of going shopping with Charlie and his friends, if that's okay with you? I want to pick up a few souvenirs for the gang back home and…I was thinking, you might want some time alone with Brennan, you know, to talk…"

How is it possible for someone to know you so well? Reaching out to place his hand over her wrist on the counter, he turns to her with a smile.

"How do you manage to know exactly what I need at every possible moment?"

Giving her shoulders a little shrug, she winks and leans in close enough to whisper.

"Magic."

"Well, consider me bewitched."

They're both smiling goofily at each other when Charlie sprints back into the room, one arm in his coat as his thumbs fly over the screen of his phone.

"My buddy's here to pick me up, so I'll see you two lovebirds later, yeah?"

Emma's eyes tear from Killian's over to Charlie and she's suddenly on her feet, gulping the last of her coffee and gathering her dishes in her hands.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could tag along? Killian hates shopping and I'd love to pick up a few things."

"Aye, of course. There's loads of stores in the area we're headed. We might be out for a while though?"

"I don't mind. Just give me a minute to grab my coat."

Killian rises to his feet and heads to the hall closet, quickly pulling her gray wool peacoat from its hanger and grabbing her purse hanging on a hook on the back of the door. When he closes the door again, he finds her waiting patiently behind it.

"Your coat, milady…"

With a playful roll of her eyes, she turns to let him help her work her arms into the sleeves and on instinct, he finds himself leaning further into her as he reaches around to slowly work the buttons closed. Her breath fans his cheek as she turns slightly to face him, putting her lips just inches away as he gently pulls her hair free from beneath her collar.

"All set, Swan."

"Thanks."

"Oh, just kiss her already so we can go, Bobby's waiting!"

He can feel his cheeks burning with the blush he knows has risen there, but Emma just turns quickly in his arms and places her hands behind his neck. Before he has even a moment to consider his next course of action, her lips are pressed against his, firmly and then gone, much like her as she pulls from his grasp and disappears behind Charlie right out the door.

"Bloody hell…"

Turning swiftly on his heel at the sound of Brennan's deep chuckle behind him, Killian finds his father watching him from the entrance to the kitchen with a thoughtful smile. Too dazed to do much but put one foot in front of the other, he makes his way back to the counter and to his coffee, hoping the strong brew will help clear the haze set upon him by Emma's kiss. The clink of dishes in the sink manages to do the trick, as he realizes that for the first time since his arrival in London, he is finally all alone with his father. Moving to help clear the breakfast, the two of them work in strained silence, except for the occasional query as to where the Tupperware can be found or if he wants to save the last bit of eggs. When all that's left are their topped off coffees, Killian knows he can't put things off one minute longer, and by the look in Brennan's eyes, he wholeheartedly agrees.

"Shall we speak in the living room where it's more comfortable?"

Brennan nods, silently following Killian until they're sitting facing one another on opposing couches, the only light in the room from the window and the small Christmas tree tucked in the corner.

"Killian, I know there is much to say, but I must begin with an apology. I don't know if I will be able to find the words to express how deeply I regret the decision I made all those years ago. But please believe me when I tell you that there has not been a single day that has gone by that I haven't thought of you, and Liam. I wish I could go back and change things, but I've learned through my recovery that instead all I can do is try to make amends. How I do that, is still a bit of a mystery to me."

The lights on the tree where Killian's stare has fallen begin to blur, feeling his composure begin to break, but he holds firm, needing to know it all if he's to have any chance of understanding why.

"You can begin by explaining where you've been for the past 25 years. The little you've told me in your emails is far from enough."

Brennan slumps forward in his seat, his head coming to rest in his hands for a moment before leaning back again with his elbows on his knees so he can look Killian in the eye.

"As I mentioned before, I was in trouble back then, had gambled all that we owned away and was so in debt I couldn't see my way out. I didn't have anything left, no way to put food on the table or clothes on my boys' backs, only a mountain of creditors and a warrant out for my arrest. Like a coward, I ran. I didn't get far. I was arrested less than a month later and spent the next two years in prison."

"Did you not even think of letting us come and see you? We were just wasting away in that bloody foster home with no idea if you were alive or dead!"

"I know, and I'm so, so sorry. I was weak, Killian, ashamed, and I told the authorities that I had no means to take care of you and I relinquished all parental rights. I didn't know what you were told, or apparently, what you weren't told. It was easier for me to believe that wherever you were, you were better off without me there messing up your lives."

"You were wrong!" Killian can't hold back his anger now, as much as he might want to. It's too raw and he feels like he's six years old again, waking to find his father gone, with no one but Liam to ever trust again.

"I couldn't see that then, Killian. I was broken and it took me many, many years to figure out how to put myself back together again."

Unable to remain sitting any longer, Killian pushes to his feet, needing to move his muscles that have tensed further with every word his father has spoken.

"How did you do that, exactly? Did you just pretend that you weren't a father? That you hadn't abandoned your sons?"

"Of course not, that would never have been possible. Once I was out of jail, I found a job in the mailroom at an advertising firm in London. I started going to meetings, Gamblers Anonymous, and after a few setbacks, finally committed myself to my recovery. That's where I met Charlie's mother. She was a counselor, and as much as it was frowned upon, she found it in her heart to fall in love with me, and I with her. She saved me, Killian, helped me find the strength to want to save myself."

Killian's thoughts go immediately to Emma, and her friendship, the many times she's been his strength when he needed it most, this trip being just the most recent example. Looking over at his father he sees that he has tears in his eyes and Killian feels a bit of his anger begin to fall away. Brennan, for all of his faults and mistakes, he's not the man who left him all those years ago. Killian knows he has to choose, either to keep hating the man he was or try to forgive the man before him now.

_He didn't come all this way for the former_.

"I'm very sorry she was taken from you, Father. I don't know what I would do if Emma, that is, if…"

The realization hits him suddenly that he has called Brennan father, but when their eyes meet, he sees that Brennan didn't miss it, not at all.

"Thank you, Son. I wish you could have met her. Bloody cancer... At least she lived long enough to see me turn my life around, work my way up at the agency, helped me raise Charlie to be a better man that I."

Killian sits back down and leans forward, mirroring Brennan now with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped firmly in front of him.

"How long has Charlie known about me?"

"Only the last two years. When my Annie passed, she made me promise to continue to make amends, to find you and Liam. If only I had tried sooner…"

"Liam might be here with me as well."

Tears are falling now, but Killian doesn't do anything to try and stop them. His hands begin to shake as emotions he has pushed down come tumbling from him in heaving sobs, leaving him gasping for air. When he feels large, warm hands cover his, he looks up and sees his father kneeling before him through his tears, and he finally lets himself fall. With so many years between the last hug from the man before him, Killian doesn't really know what to do when he feels his father's arms wrap around his shoulders. But when the tentativeness releases from Brennan's grip and a comforting strength take its place, Killian lets his forehead fall to his father's shoulder and doesn't pull back. After a time, his hands come up and cling to Brennan's shoulders as he forces deep gulps of air into his lungs, feeling the beginnings of the calm approaching this long overdue storm.

Lifting his head, Killian clears his throat, hoping his voice won't crack as he tries to speak.

"Charlie is so like him, you know?"

Brennan pulls back slightly and Killian looks up at him from beneath wet lashes, finding his father's cheeks wet with tears of his own.

"Will you tell me more about him some day?"

"Aye, I'd like to tell you both."

They both dissolve into manly shuffling after that, Brennan wiping at his face with his sleeve as he moves back to sit on his couch and Killian, doing pretty much the same. Feeling as though they've found their way past the first big hurdle on the way to reconciliation, Killian thinks maybe he should offer the next olive branch.

"I was thinking of asking Charlie to come visit me in Boston on his next break from school. Perhaps you'd like to come as well?"

Brennan's uneasy smile widens at that and he leans a bit forward in his seat.

"I'd like that very much. I don't want us to be too big of a burden on you and Emma, so when we set the date, be sure to send me a list of hotels near your home."

"Oh, Emma and I don't…"

His eyes widen at his slip and he looks to Brennan as he tries to find the words to backtrack, but finds his father looking at him with one eyebrow aimed at the sky.

_He knows._

"Aye, Killian, I know."

"But…how, when? I thought we were doing a pretty good job at faking it?"

"Oh, I knew from the moment Emma introduced me as your girlfriend. Son, you should have seen your face, it was priceless. But for the record, whether you're willing to admit or not, neither of you have been faking a bloody thing."

Too shocked to say a word, Killian watches with his jaw dropped open as Brennan stands and gathers their abandoned mugs, leaving him there in his frozen stupor to get fresh coffee. He finally finds his voice when his father is sitting back in front of him, a steaming mug warming his suddenly chilled fingers.

"Is it that obvious?"

"That you're head over heels in love with her? Aye…completely. Luckily, I'm fairly confident she feels the same towards you."

Releasing a frustrated breath from his nose, Killian shakes his head and buries his face in the mug, taking a long sip of the strong brew and refusing to meet his father's eyes.

"I don't know about that. She's never said…"

"Have you ever said anything?"

"No, not yet. I plan to, today in fact."

Killian looks up when he sees Brennan shift forward slightly in his seat, his hand reaching towards him with his mug outstretched.

"Best of luck, then."

Realizing his intent, Killian reaches his mug forward to clink his mug lightly against the side of his father's, careful not to slosh the hot liquid on the floor between them.

"A man unwilling to fight for what he wants…"

Killian interrupts, finishing the saying before his father can, "deserves what he gets."

/

By the time Emma and Charlie return from their shopping, Killian has helped Brennan prepare their Christmas supper of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes and root vegetables. The time cooking together was spent at times in surprisingly comfortable silence and at others, sharing happy memories, mostly of Charlie's upbringing and Killian's time with Emma. The bridge he was afraid might have been burned beyond repair before making this trip is feeling a bit sturdier now, with hopes that continued crossings will _eventually_ mend it for good.

The woman standing in the hallway with her arms laden with bags, with cold flushed cheeks and her curls all in disarray from the breeze, she's all he can think about now. Hell, she's all he thinks about most time…he's just finally ready to do something about it. Unfortunately, supper has to come first.

He takes great joy in watching her pop her cracker and leans in to press a kiss to her temple as he settles her paper crown just over her ears. She can't stop beaming at the silly toy inside, a tiny set of jacks she's almost lost the ball to three times already from bouncing it off the edge of the table. They all erupt into a fit of laughter when it finally lands in the middle of the mashed potatoes, and she finally tucks it safely into her back pocket. More laughs are shared over the course of the meal, once again mainly thanks to Charlie, who really needs to learn to stop talking with his mouth full of food. Emma catches his hand under the table after she spots a shared smile between him and Brennan, a smile he turns to her as he tangles their fingers together on his thigh. She squeezes his hand in understanding, but doesn't let go, and they continue to hold hands for the remainder of the meal, under the table, where no one can see.

When it comes time to clear, Brennan shoos them both away, pulling a groan from Charlie when he realizes he's once again on dish duty. Seeing an in, Killian takes it.

"If you both don't mind, I have a Christmas gift for Emma I'd like for her to open in private. We'll just be upstairs for a bit…"

Brennan looks up from the potatoes he's spooning into the Tupperware with an encouraging smile, meeting Killian's eyes as he nods.

"Go on ahead, we won't wait for dessert, so don't be surprised if Charlie eats the whole bloody pie."

Emma's ears perk up at the word pie, but the insistent tug of Killian's hand has her finally relenting as she follows him up the stairs, grumbling "there better be pie left, or else, Jones" under her breath.

"Don't worry, Swan, I'll make sure you get pie."

Pulling her into their bedroom, he turns his back to her to quietly shut the door, and give himself a moment to summon some much needed courage. When he turns, she's much closer than she was before, standing amidst the pile of bags from her shopping excursion. He finds himself smiling as he realizes that they're going to have to buy another suitcase to get all of that home.

"What's that smile all about?"

Her eyes are wide and sparkling as he looks up from her feet, her smile bright and happy and giving him the hope he needs to move forward with his plan.

"You, Swan, just you."

He watches as her head dips slightly at his words, her eyes falling to the cuff of her sweater she's nervously crushing beneath her fingertips and her palm. She's never been great with compliments.

"Stay there, let me just…"

Bending down, he rummages through his suitcase until his fingers find the small box he'd wrapped and stashed in the bottom before they left Boston. When he'd packed it, he had no idea the giving of what's inside would be the precipice of this moment. He just knew that when he saw it…it was meant for her. He's had it since early October, when they stumbled into this tiny shop on a weekend visit to Cambridge, and had to come up with an excuse to leave her in another store so he could rush back and buy it. Now, standing with it in his palm, he's never been surer of anything in his life.

"Killian?"

Realizing he's been standing there for too long not saying anything, he steps forward and hopes his hand isn't shaking as he reaches for one of her own. There's a slight hesitance to her touch, but he's not deterred, hoping it's just her unease at not knowing what is happening.

"So, my father knows that we've been faking it."

Her free hand flies to her mouth as she looks at him with wide eyes.

"Oh shit!"

Laughing at her expletive, he draws her slightly closer and waits for her hand to fall back down from her mouth and for a bit of the shock to wear off her face.

"Yeah, he's known since the start. He's proven to be rather perceptive, about many things."

He's getting ahead of himself, he realizes, and holds the small gift up for her to take.

"This is for you, love. Merry Christmas."

Her eyelashes flutter briefly as she looks up at him and he can feel the slight quickening of her breath from their close proximity. Releasing his hand, she reaches for the gift and begins unwrapping the package with slightly uncoordinated fingers. When she can't get the ribbon to untie, she uses brute strength to snap it in half, and he swears he falls in love with her all over again. The breath he didn't realize he'd been holding releases as she finally lifts the velvet lid of the box and her eyes meet his with an incredulous stare.

"You're not going to believe this."

Not the reaction he was expecting, _not even close_.

"What, Swan?"

"Hang on." With the box still clasped between her fingers, she crouches down and begins to dive into her own suitcase with her free hand. It only takes her a moment or two, and he's suddenly having a small package in bright red paper being thrust into his own hands. He can't help but notice how similar in size it is to the box she has just unwrapped.

"Open it."

She has the same look of disbelief on her face and he can't do anything now but what she asks. He's a bit more graceful with the unwrapping than she is, but the paper falls forgotten to the floor at his feet as he reveals a velvet box identical to the one he has just given her. He is distracted by the slight tremble he sees in her lower lip, continuing only at her insistent nod. He snaps the lid open but doesn't even need to see what's inside as he's already figured out exactly what he will find.

Tucked into the velvet base is a circular pendant fashioned to look like the face of an ancient compass, with the words " _follow your heart and you will always find your way home_ " inscribed on the back. He knows the inscription is there, as it's the exact same pendant he has just given Emma.

Emma's eyes are filled with tears when he looks from the pendant to her and in that moment, he knows, he knows for certain that his father was right. Neither one of them has been faking a bloody thing.

He knows he moves first, but it's a close thing. He's sure she'll argue with him later about it. Her lips meet his with as much passion as he feels, the softness of their previous kisses a distant memory as their mouths move possessively, their hands fisting and clinging, anything to bring their bodies closer. The tiny jacks in her pocket dig into his palm as he drags her hips into his, needing to feel her everywhere, gasping against her lips as he finally does. Never one to be outdone, she seeks his now open mouth with her tongue and they spend minutes, minutes that feel like hours, tasting and exploring the hidden treasures they'd held back from one another for far too long.

When he finally pulls back to breathe, her fingers behind his neck stop his retreat, holding him steady as she leans her forehead against his and takes a few deep breaths of her own. It's a difficulty, but he manages to pull a few coherent thoughts from his Emma jumbled brain, finally finding the words to explain the importance of necklace that is now somewhere at their feet.

"My heart led me to you, Emma. You're my home. I never dreamed I could love someone as much as I love you."

His eyes flutter shut at the touch of her lips, lightly kissing away the tear that he'd barely noticed had fallen to his cheek. When she pulls back, he can see that her own cheeks are wet, fresh tears falling freely from her eyes as she leans in to kiss his lips once again. This time, it's sweet, it's infinite, as his lips part gently under hers and they sway towards the edge of the bed. When her thighs hit the mattress, she pulls her lips from his and looks up at him with such love in her eyes that he's thankful for her arms helping to hold him up in case his knees decide to buckle.

"I loved you first."

His joy at her words is equally matched with his amusement, as he's more than happy to go toe to toe with her in this particular game.

"You know, Swan, not everything has to be a competition."

His breath catches when her arms fall from his back and move to his belt , watching as a wicked gleam shines in her eyes now settled firmly on him. He's quickly thrown off balance as her fingers hook into his waistband and give a hard tug, his body now pressed flush against her, her back bowed towards the mattress.

"Just give me this one, Jones. I promise we'll both win in the end."

They don't make it downstairs for dessert.

Charlie ate the entire pie anyway.

And Killian got an even closer look at those green panties.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – You all have no idea how much this fic has been a labor of love for me. Having plot bunnies run around in my brain since Thanksgiving, the story morphing into something bigger and more than I expected as I wrote it, it's all been a bit of a crazy ride! I hope you enjoyed my trope-filled gift to all of you for your support of my writing all year. Happy New Year!
> 
> Oh, I do plan to come back with an epilogue that may or may not veer into M rated territory. These two deserve it, don't you think? (no, seriously, tell me what you think!) ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the epilogue! This probably straddles the line between T and M, so just fair warning.

They'd come up with a plan.

A plan forged first from reluctant necessity, passion now unbidden but deterred thanks to lack of planning and less than ideal surroundings. As much as she wanted him, and he her, neither had packed a condom, both too convinced their love would be forever one-sided to even dream one would be necessary. The knowledge that the 18 year old occupant of the room beside theirs would undoubtedly have what was needed didn't solve anything, as it proved to be a sobering reminder of where they were. So, between drugging kisses and shuddering touches, they managed a few brief moments of clarity, and the plan was made.

Just a few days, that's all they had agreed to wait. After a passionate New Year's Eve kiss in front of their friends, they would retreat to Emma's apartment and spend the whole of New Year's Day in bed. She had demanded her apartment be the scene of their rendezvous, as the best delivery places could be found in her neighborhood, allowing them to eat without the need for clothes. She'd barely had that decree out of her mouth when she'd found herself pressed deep in the mattress, Killian's mouth hot and possessive, sending them into another hour of sweaty, mind numbing madness. They'd woken late, lips kiss swollen and eyes bleary from not enough sleep, both pretending to ignore the knowing smile from Brennan when they finally made their way down for breakfast.

Too cold to sit up top, the last day of their trip had been spent sightseeing, the two of them huddled close together in the bench seat in the lower section of one of the famous red double-decker buses. The constant stream of narration from the driver, or Charlie, or both, the only distraction from the awareness of him she felt with every fiber of her being. The touch of Killian's fingers as they'd mingled with hers, at times merely gripping and others, stroking and toying, had managed to slowly drive her to the brink of insanity. By the time they had hopped off at Hyde Park, she had been afraid to try to stand, fearful her legs would be too full of jelly to support her weight. Killian's smug chuckle in her ear as he had helped her to her feet signaling the beginning of the game, one he would regret inviting her to play.

Sure, tempting him to the edge of his control, in retrospect, had been dangerous, but it had proved to be unbearably enjoyable. Her first move had been in Harrods, when she'd stopped in the lingerie section, letting her fingers slide over the black satins and red silks, feeling the heat of Killian's stare as she chose a barely there pair of gauzy panties to purchase. Charlie, thankfully, had been too busy chatting up a girl from his school a few aisles over to notice the exchange, and didn't question his older brother's sudden need to get some coffee in the café, far away from the temptation of the dressing rooms where Emma imagined he would have loved to drag her. Later, as they all piled into Brennan's car to head back to the house, she'd been able to stifle her laugh when Charlie ended up wedged between them on the seat. The younger Jones had definitely been bewildered, but soon fell into a spirited conversation about Rugby teams, the ease of the building relationship between the two men lifting her lips into a smile as she watched London stream past outside her window.

That night, their last before heading home, had kept them all up well past midnight, Charlie's antics even more entertaining through a heavy buzz of strong spirits. When they'd finally stumbled to bed, she'd let Killian make a move of his own, his rum tinged tongue devouring her as her hips rose beneath his fingers, his moan as he'd triggered her release too loud, her euphoria too strong to stop her from falling asleep in his arms. When morning had come too early, she'd extricated herself from his embrace with great reluctance, wishing she could lean further into him, wake him in a much more pleasurable fashion. But, they'd had a plane to catch, and a plan in place.

Watching him say goodbye to Charlie had been the hardest, the raw emotion shared between the two somehow heart-wrenching and uplifting at the same time. With promises of a visit in the Spring, Charlie had shuffled back upstairs, his still sleepy eyes clouded with tears. After a light kiss to Brennan's cheek, Emma had left Killian alone with his father, not wanting her presence to hinder whatever words needed to be spoken. When Killian had slid beside her in the taxi a few minutes later, he'd wordlessly grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, an unburdened smile upon his face as the driver pulled out onto to the street. She'd spent the rest of the ride to Heathrow with her head against his chest, her fingers wrapped around the compass hanging from his neck. They were going home.

/

With home approaching by each passing mile, the man she loves snuggled against her shoulder, his hand wrapped somewhat scandalously high around her jean clad thigh, she's trying to come up with ways to make this plan of theirs work. It's the 27th, five full days to get through until their planned "coming out" kiss, five full days of having to hold back after years of doing just that. What in the hell were they thinking?

The loud double ding signaling their approaching arrival jolts Killian out of his slumber, the movement pushing his hand even higher, causing a slight shudder to course down her legs. He notices, _of course_ , his sleep rumpled face transforming to something almost primal and completely inappropriate for their surroundings. The pointed clearing throat of a passing flight attendant stops whatever thought was forming in his mind, his fingers moving down to lightly squeeze her knee as he tears his eyes from hers and stretches his arms high over his head. She's thankful that her vantage point at his side doesn't give her a view of his toned stomach that she knows is on full display at this moment, the dark hair leading downwards that she's felt crinkle beneath her fingertips, the muscles she's made flex from her exploratory touches. Her cheeks flush at the thought of how badly she needs to feel him again, to know how those muscles will move in tandem with hers, and oh god…there is no way they are going to make it for five more days.

His hand seeks out the small of her back as soon as they exit the plane, keeping a warm and steady pressure as they make their way through the endless lines, only letting go when absolutely necessary. When their two matching suitcases, and the cheap shoulder bag they'd bought at Heathrow for all of her gifts, are finally shoved into the back seat of her bug in the long term parking lot, she finds herself suddenly trapped between the cold metal and the similarly unyielding warmth of Killian's chest. His fingers are shaking slightly as he moves to cup her jaw, his lips firm and probing as he kisses the breath from her lungs. Needing an anchor, she threads her fingers through his hair, letting his weight settle against her as each pass of his lips sends swooping sensations deep in her belly. Not a single word needs to be spoken for her to know that he's in one hundred percent agreement…the plan is off.

In relatively short order, every part of the plan comes spectacularly unglued. With his apartment closer, they stumble together up the stairs to his apartment, their uncoordinated actions snapping the strap and tumbling the new bag back down to the bottom in a cacophony of crunching sounds. Her hands fly to her mouth as she remembers the leftover crackers she'd thrown in, wanting to give Ruby and Mary Margaret one to open on New Year's Eve. The look of chagrin on Killian's face is short lived, however, as she finds her protests of "we need to go get the bag" ignored as his hand grabs hers to drag her the rest of the way to his door. Their roller bags end up out in the hallway as well; his grumbles of "we'll get them later" pressed against her neck as he pushes her coat from her shoulders and hauls her against him with his arms circling her backside.

Everywhere he touches her has her skin erupting in heat, the warmth of his hands as peels off her sweater, his fingertips branding her breasts as he releases them from the lace of her bra. By the time they've found his bedroom, she left in just her panties, both of their focus now on divesting him of the rest of his clothes. He nearly trips as he tries to get out of his pants, passion and urgency having clouded his brain, making him forget that his boots should really be removed first. Happiness bubbles deep inside of her as they lose themselves in a fit of laughter, tears of joy springing to the corners of her eyes as she helps him extricate himself from his denim prison. Giggles turn quickly to gasps when he's finally bare and he's coaxed her backwards on the mattress, his hands and mouth now moving slowly down her anxiously trembling body.

His fingers have slid her panties down her legs when she suddenly realizes his intention, her knees coming up so fast he has to snap his head out of the way of her attack.

"Bloody hell, Emma..."

A laugh escapes her lips at the passion clouded incredulous expression staring back at her from his perch hovering between her legs. Lowering her knees again, she crooks her finger at him, beckoning him to change the direction of his mouth, _for now_.

"I love you for wanting to do that, but I've been sitting on a plane for six hours. Let's save it for later, after a shower."

His lips curve into a smile as he crawls back towards her mouth, his body fitting perfectly against hers as he begins to press tiny kisses to the corners of her lips, her nose, her cheeks, finally settling his attention on the curve of her throat. Lifting her hips beneath him, he releases a deep breath against her skin, and then he's falling into rhythm with her, warmth pooling between them until he has to pull away and find the condoms in his bedside drawer. As he positions himself again, she reaches up to cup his cheeks, needing to see his face when they finally become one, his pendant pressing against hers as he finds his way home. After that first slow slide, years of longing and held back passion take over in a mutually frantic need for release. Words of love spill from their lips as they claim one another for the first time, their bodies moving effortlessly in sync, taking and giving in turn until she's collapsing against him in sated bliss.

_It's still the 27th, they're in Killian's apartment, and there's nowhere good to order food._

None of that matters now, as Killian's hand is cradling her head to his chest, their ragged breathing the only sound in the room outside of the tandem beating of their hearts.

"We can still do this all day on the 1st, right love?"

Pressing her lips to his chest, she lifts her head to meet his drowsy eyes, and can't resist the urge to lean in and take his lips again in a tender kiss. Pulling back before their passion sparks anew; she rests her forehead against his and presses her thumb along the scar on his cheek.

"I seem to remember a pair of panties I bought for just that occasion…I'd hate to see them go to waste."

His hands flex on her hips, dragging her closer as she's sure memories of the purchase are now flashing across his brain.

"I thought the plan involved no clothes, my love."

Leaning down, she presses a light kiss to his cheek, before settling her lips just against the shell of his ear.

"I'll be wearing them on New Year's Eve…"

They barely make it to the shower for round two.

Their friends gasp with approval at their passionate New Year's Eve kiss.

The gauzy panties definitely don't go to waste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Marking this story complete, but I may revisit this one again. I'd love to write more of Brennan and Charlie, so we'll see what happens... Thanks again for following along on this holiday story! It's been a blast! I've loved reading all of your lovely reviews so much!


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